


Blue River

by Dean_hugs_Sammy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Ghosts, Hurt Dean, Hurt Sam, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-29
Updated: 2014-12-29
Packaged: 2018-03-04 05:26:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2953958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dean_hugs_Sammy/pseuds/Dean_hugs_Sammy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Winchester brothers get stuck at a haunted mountain hotel during a storm. Will they be able to solve the mysterious murders before they become victims themselves?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Set in the early years.

"So tell me about this hotel again." Dean said, turned the radio down a notch and glanced momentarily at his little brother before looking back at the road in front of them.

Sam was sitting in the passenger seat of the Impala, busy flipping through some pieces of papers. In front of him, on the dashboard of the car, a map was spread out and Sam had circled what was their destination for this time being; Blue River, Colorado.

"The Blue River Mountain hotel, built in 1902." Sam started. "Has been abandoned for a decade of years ever since the last owner died and it has recently been restored by the new owner, Harvey Cramer and his wife Dorothy. A few days ago, however, the couple found one of their guests strangled to death in one of the hotel rooms."

"And why do you think this is a case for us and not something for the police to deal with?" Dean asked.

"The victim was the only guest at the hotel at the time." Sam said. "Besides, the hotel door was locked from the inside and there were no signs of forced entry – which isn't so odd considering the room is located on the third floor."

"What about Mr. and Mrs. Cramer?" Dean asked. "They have keys to every room in the hotel, right? Couldn't they have locked themselves inside and choked the poor sucker to death before locking the door again on their way out?"

"Yeah but here's the kicker; the victim had no marks on his neck or anything else that could explain how he was murdered. Nothing out of the ordinary other than the fact that he'd choked to death somehow." Sam said. "And get this; he had this engraved on his stomach."

Sam held up a picture of some sort of symbol and Dean frowned. The symbol was two circles with a horizontal line cut across them.

"Alright, I'm convinced." Dean said and shook his head a bit at the eagerness Sam showed. "Dude, you're way too excited about doing research. Sometimes I fear that you're actually _enjoying_ being geeky."

Sam shot Dean a scowl while putting the picture away.

"I just like being thoroughly prepared for what we're getting ourselves into." Sam said. "And it wouldn't kill you to help a little with the research every now and then, Dean."

"Hey I do take my share of the research, thank you very much. Gathering information by interviewing people is also an important part of researching." Dean protested.

"I really don't think hitting on the waitress in a bar is very productive." Sam huffed.

"That depends on what your end goal is." Dean grinned. "Besides, it wouldn't kill you to get laid every now and then. It might help on that bitchy attitude of yours!"

Sam ignored his older brother and turned his attention back to the article he'd been reading.

"I wonder why the hotel was abandoned for ten years before anyone decided to buy it." Sam said after a while.

"Well, maybe it just wasn't worth buying." Dean said and then hummed along on the chorus of the song that was currently playing in the radio.

"Yeah, maybe." Sam mumbled before putting the article away.

By the time the brothers reached Blue River, the rain was drumming heavily down on the windshield of the Impala and, even though Dean had the wipers on full power, it was quite difficult to see the road ahead of them. The wind had also picked up significantly, shaking the car a bit by each puff. By some sort of miracle though, Dean found the road leading to the remote mountain hotel and crossed a small bridge – a bridge with a raging river underneath that separated the road back to town with the road leading to the hotel. Sam swallowed hard when they drove across the old bridge. The water level was pretty high and Sam feared the bridge would end up giving in to the heavy pressure, so he let out the breath he didn't know he'd been holding by the time they'd finally passed the bridge.

"Blue River Mountain Hotel." Dean read aloud as they passed the sign and a few moments later, the hotel appeared in front of them.

It was a three story hotel with a grey stone- and dark wood-patterned façade. The backside of the hotel was situated very close to the mountainside while the front of the hotel was turned towards the road, and the entire hotel was surrounded by large trees. In the darkness and bad weather, the hotel looked like something taken straight out of a horror movie. Dean was relieved when he noticed the hotel had a garage placed in the right side of the large driveway and he steered the Impala in that direction.

"Consider yourself lucky." Dean told his younger brother. "If the bad weather had made any dents in my baby, I would have kicked your ass."

"Yeah, cause the bad weather is _my_ fault." Sam said with sarcasm.

"No, but you're the one who wanted to check out the hotel." Dean commented as he parked the car in safety inside the garage and turned the engine off.

It was still pouring down and the wind was blowing strongly as the brothers stepped out of the car, picked up their gear from the trunk and made their way towards the entrance doors of the hotel. The cold wind blew straight through their jackets and by the time they'd fought their way to the entrance, they were both shivering and soaked to the skin. A flash of lightning illuminated the sky as the Winchesters entered the hotel lobby and were met by a blond-haired woman in a brown sweater who was situated behind the counter.

"Good evening gentlemen." She greeted them with a smile. "I'm Dorothy. Can I get you guys a room?"

"Yeah, my brother here could use a shower, right Sam?" Dean smiled and nudged Sam in the side with an elbow. "Turns out he isn't rocking the wet puppy dog look after all."

Sam turned an annoyed glare in Dean's direction before sending Dorothy a forced smile while brushing his wet bangs away from his eyes.

"I'll get you a room right away." Dorothy smiled but looked a bit nervous as a big boom of thunder sounded outside. "It couldn't have been a very pleasant ride up here with the bad weather. They announced in the radio that it will be even worse during the night."

"Awesome." Dean said, crossed his arms in front of his chest and gave Sam a look.

"You gonna blame that on me as well?" Sam asked, bitch-face firmly in place.

"I haven't decided yet." Dean answered which made the younger brother roll his eyes.

Sam then noticed a picture hanging on the wall of Dorothy and a man whom he presumed was her husband, Mr. Cramer, standing in front of the restored hotel. The hotel looked so much nicer bathed in sunshine as it was on the picture.

"Here's your key - Room 242." Dorothy said and handed Dean a key. "It's on the second floor."

She then jumped a little as another boom of thunder could be heard.

"I'm sorry." She said and accepted Dean's credit card. "I really admire your courage for driving up here but I'm not sure I would wish to stay here of my own free will - especially not after.."

Dorothy stopped herself and looked a little embarrassed.

"After someone was found dead in your hotel?" Sam suggested.

"Yeah, you heard about that?" Dorothy asked.

"We read the article." Dean said.

"Right." Dorothy nodded. "You would think people would stay away after such news but it's actually just the opposite. What is the saying? Bad publicity is better than no publicity?"

"I guess that's true." Sam said. "We're actually writers, gathering material for a book about mysterious deaths and we hoped to get to know a little more about the death in this hotel."

"For inspiration." Dean added with a smile.

"Right." Sam agreed with a nod of his head.

"Well, you could talk to the local sheriff." Dorothy suggested. "He's staying at the hotel for this time being while investigating the case. I don't know if he wants to talk to you, but it's worth a shot."

"Thank you M'am." Dean said before the brothers started walking up the big stairs of the entrance hall.

**_ SPN _**

As Dorothy had said, the storm continued. After showering and getting into some clean – and more importantly – dry clothes, Sam and Dean decided to check out the third floor of the hotel where the body had been found.

"You know, someday it would be nice to stay at a hotel that _wasn't_ creepy for once." Dean said as they walked down the long hallway with doors on each side. "I mean come on, why do they always have to have those kinda paintings for instance, huh?"

He moved the beam of his flashlight across a painting of what he could read was the old owner of the house – a little grey-haired man with a hawk-nose and small piercing eyes. Dean shook himself involuntarily.

"A lot of old hotels like to cherish their history." Sam said while keeping his eyes on the EMF meter he was carrying in front of him. "It's a part of the charm."

"Charm, my ass." Dean mumbled. "Creepy is what it is!"

It wasn't difficult to locate the room where the body had been found since the door to the room had been sealed off by black and yellow police tape. Dean scouted the hallway to both sides and then took out a pocket-knife from inside his jacket, before he cut through the police tape. He then took the EMF meter away from Sam so his little brother could pick the lock while Dean made sure the coast was clear.

"Show off." Dean said as the door way too quickly unlocked with a click, and Sam smiled wryly before pushing the door open.

The room was almost an exact copy of their own hotel room and nothing looked out of the ordinary. However, as soon as they entered the room, the EMF meter went nuts.

"Sam." Dean said and shot his brother a knowing look.

"Ghost?" Sam suggested and Dean nodded.

"Seems like it. And probably a vengeful one too, considering the murder." The older brother said and put the EMF meter away. "I knew we should have brought a shotgun up here."

"Well, we don't yet know if the spirit is connected to this room in particular or to the hotel in general." Sam said but scouted the room carefully nonetheless.

Nothing caught his attention though – no movements, no sounds, no drops in the temperature, no flickering lights.

"What on earth!" A voice suddenly exclaimed from the doorway which made the brothers spin around immediately, and they then found themselves face to face with an unknown man. "What are you doing in here? This is a sealed off crime scene!"

"Ehm.." Dean started and looked at Sam for help.

"We're.. just.." Sam started and looked back at Dean again.

".. just gathering some inspiration for our book." Dean continued and Sam nodded in confirmation.

"Inspiration for a book?" The man repeated in disbelief. "I should have you both arrested for contaminating a crime scene! And get that light out of my face!"

"Sorry." Dean said with a trying smile and turned the flashlight off.

"We didn't mean to contaminate anything." Sam said and raised his hands in defense as he and Dean left the room. "Are you the sheriff?"

"Damn right I am!" The sheriff said and closed the door to the room before looking strictly at the two Winchester brothers.

"I swear, we didn't mean to cause any trouble." Sam said. "We're writers and we wanted to research for a book we have coming up about mysterious deaths."

"Is that so?" The sheriff asked and narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

"Yeah, it's gonna be the new best-seller." Dean said and put on a charming smile. "Maybe we could interview you? It would be awesome to have a statement from a real sheriff."

"Oh, I don't know." The sheriff said, anger suddenly forgotten.

"Come on. We would of course credit you in the book." Dean pushed and the sheriff gave in to oldest brother.

"Alright, you can interview me." The sheriff said with a smile. "How about downstairs in the bar? I could use a whiskey."

"Sounds about right to me." Dean said and slapped Sam's shoulder, as the sheriff lead the way to the stairway.

Sam just shook his head and smiled a little. It was beyond him why people – women _and_ men – always fell for his big brother's charm. But it sure as hell could be pretty convenient, especially in times like this.

After ordering two glasses of whiskey (and a beer for Sam), the sheriff sat down by a round table in the corner of the bar and motioned for Dean and Sam to join him.

"So, how can I help you lads?" The sheriff asked and lighted a cigarette before taking a sip of his whiskey.

"Can you tell us something about the murder?" Dean asked after taking a sip of his own glass of whiskey.

"Not much to say." The sheriff said, took a drag of his cigarette and blew out smoke while talking. "You read the article, so you know the basics."

The sheriff took another drag of his cigarette and then looked carefully around as if trying to determine whether or not anyone was listening to the conversation, before he leaned a bit forward.

"There was this symbol engraved on the victim's stomach." The sheriff said in a low voice. "And.. Wait, you should probably write this down."

Dean nodded and glanced at his brother. Sam had already dug the picture out of the police files, but to humor the sheriff, Dean found a notepad in his pocket and a pen before scribbling something useless down.

"Does anyone know what the symbol means?" Dean asked and the sheriff shook his head.

"No, not yet. But I know something else about it." The sheriff said and held a pause to build up tension before continuing. "It was engraved.. by a fingernail."

"Really?" Dean asked and raised his eyebrows.

"Uh-huh, and a sharp one that is. So whoever murdered the fellow was probably a woman." The sheriff revealed. "But how did she get in without a key? The only woman who was present at this hotel by the time the victim was murdered was Mrs. Cramer, so you would naturally think of her as a suspect, right?"

"Right." Dean said, though he knew better than that.

"But Mrs. Cramer couldn't have done it." The sheriff said with smug smile. "And you wanna know why?"

"Sure." Dean said.

"Because Mrs. Cramer bites her nails which means her fingernails aren't long enough to do such damage." The sheriff said. "So who did it?"

"Beats me." Dean said and was now even more convinced than before by the fact that they were dealing with a ghost.

Sam, on the other hand, wasn't paying any attention to the sheriff's story. He was busy studying the other people in the bar. There was an elderly couple leaving the bar, a man in the mid-forties sitting on a bar stool, and behind the bar; a bartender. In the opposite corner from where Sam, Dean and the sheriff were sitting, a woman in a red dress was in what appeared to be a heated argument with a man. Sam recognized the man from the picture in the lobby which meant that he had to be Harvey Cramer – the owner of the hotel. Sam strained to hear what they were saying but it was impossible to hear anything from the distance and above the soft music playing in the bar. The argument came to an end as the woman stomped out of the bar in anger, leaving Mr. Cramer behind with a bitter look on his face. Sam narrowed his eyes in deep thought. He would have loved to know what that had been all about.

"Sam?" Dean said and kicked at Sam's boot, causing the youngest Winchester brother to snap out of his thoughts.

From the look on Dean's face, it was obviously not the first time he'd tried to get Sam's attention.

"Yeah?" Sam said and looked from Dean to the sheriff and back at Dean again.

"I was s _aying_ that I think we've got enough stuff for our book now, thanks to the sheriff." Dean said and shot Sam a look that said ' _What the hell, dude?'_

Sam shook his head slightly and sent Dean a look in return saying ' _I'll explain later._ '

The brothers were torn out of their silent exchange of words when a loud female scream pierced through the air. Dean and Sam were quickly on their feet and running towards the sound - with the sheriff right at their heels – and as they reached the lobby, they found the woman in the red dress with her hands before her mouth and eyes wide as she was looking at something at the bottom of the stairway.

"Oh no." Sam said as his eyes fell upon what had started the commotion.

It was the elderly couple, he had seen leave the bar; now both in a heap on the bottom of the stairs from where they'd seemingly stumbled down. From the odd angles their limps were in, it was obvious that neither of them had made it.

"Stand back!" The sheriff ordered as he squashed his way through the crowd of hotel guests that had showed up to see what was going on. "This is now a crime scene!"

Sam let his eyes scan the stairway for anything out of the ordinary, and he was suddenly startled when he saw a shape of a woman on the landing of the first floor. As fast as she'd been there, she was gone again, and Sam blinked his eyes a few times before turning to his brother.

"I think I just saw the spirit." He told his big brother.

"Where?" Dean asked and turned his gaze in the direction Sam pointed.

"Landing of the first floor." Sam said while Dean's eyes searched for someone who wasn't there.

"What did it look like?" Dean wanted to know as he turned his eyes back at Sam. "Little grey-haired man with a hawk-nose and piercing eyes?"

"Eh, no. It was a woman." Sam said and shot his brother a weird look. "Why would you think.."

"Never mind." Dean said, cutting Sam off. "If it's a woman then it fits well with the Sheriff's fingernail theory."

"What fingernail theory?" Sam asked with a frown.

"Dude." Dean sighed. "Didn't you listen to a word the sheriff said? I thought you said _you_ were the one who wanted to research everything thoroughly?"

"True, but _you_ were the one who said you helped with the research by interviewing people." Sam said with a wry smile.

"Anyway, the symbol was scratched into the strangled victim's stomach by a fingernail, which means the killer is most likely a woman." Dean said, ignoring Sam's smart-ass comment.

"Fits with the female ghost." Sam said.

"Yeah, thank you Captain Obvious." Dean said and looked towards the two bodies on the floor. "You think they've got a symbol engraved in their skin as well?"

"I don't know." Sam said. "But it's definitely worth checking out."

The Winchester brothers moved closer to the bodies while the sheriff was busy calling for back-up. They tried to get a look at the elderly couple's stomachs but it wasn't possible without moving some clothing.

"Whoa, step back." The sheriff ordered them when he was done talking on the phone.

"Sorry." Dean said and took a step back. "We just wondered if these victims had also got a symbol engraved in their skin like the last victim had."

"What? That's silly. Why would they have that?" The sheriff asked.

"Well, we could be dealing with some sort of serial killer." Dean suggested.

"I highly doubt it." The sheriff said, but looked thoughtful for a moment before grabbing a pen from his pocket and carefully lifting up in the dead man's shirt with it. "Now I'll be damned."

The sheriff did the same with the woman and got the same result; both victims had been engraved with the identical symbol that the first victim had had.

**_ SPN _**

"Thanks Bobby. Bye." Sam said and hung up his phone. "So, Bobby doesn't know the symbol."

"Dammit." Dean muttered and started walking back and forth in their hotel room. "Maybe we're looking at this whole thing wrong."

"What do you mean?" Sam wanted to know and looked up at his big brother from behind his laptop screen.

"We've assumed the symbol is supernatural, right?" Dean said.

"Right." Sam agreed. "And?"

"And what if it isn't?" Dean asked. "What if it's connected to the spirit in some other kind of way? Or has something to do with the hotel?"

"Well, it's possible." Sam said while slowly nodding his head. "Maybe the spirit is trying to tell us something."

"Or maybe she just doesn't like strangers on her territory." Dean said and looked through the window at the storm that was still ravaging outside. "The question is _why_ she suddenly started killing people. I mean, I know the hotel has been abandoned for ten years so no one's probably been around for her to kill, but still. And why the man who was strangled? Why the couple? And why the different methods?"

"Beats me." Sam sighed. "I'm also very curious to find out why Mr. Cramer was arguing with one of the guests and what it was about."

"Yeah, something's not right about that." Dean agreed and tore his eyes away from the rain before heading towards the door. "You should see what you can dig up about the Cramers."

"And where are you going?" Sam asked.

"I'm gonna have a little chat with the woman in the red dress." Dean said and wiggled his eyebrows before leaving the room.

"Figures." Sam huffed and started typing on his laptop.

When Dean got down to the lobby, he was surprised to see that the bodies were still lying at the bottom of the stairs. They had been covered up with some sheets and the area had been sealed off as much as possible but aside from that, nothing else had changed. Dean had been positive that the lobby would have been full of police by now, but no officers could be found. The lobby was far from empty though because a small crowd of agitated guests were discussion something with Mrs. Cramer, and the poor woman looked like she was on the edge of a nervous breakdown.

"Dorothy." Dean said as he reached the counter. "What is all the fuss about?"

"People want their money back and wish to be out of here straight away, and I can't blame them." Dorothy said and bit her lower lip nervously. "But the bridge has been flooded over by the river. No one is able to leave tonight."

"I see." Dean said which explained why there weren't any police officers present. They simply couldn't get through to the hotel as long as the bridge was flooded.

"Excuse me." Dorothy said and returned to the guests.

Dean couldn't see the red-dressed woman among the guests by the counter, so he started searching the adjoining rooms in hope of catching a glimpse of her. Dean was in luck as he peeked into the bar and saw her sitting on a bar stool with a drink in her hand. She was pretty, Dean noticed right away, and he put on a self-confident smile before sitting down on the bar stool next to her.

"Awful with the stairway-accident, huh?" Dean said to the woman after ordering himself a beer. "It must have been horrible to be the one to find them."

The woman turned her head to look at Dean before nodding.

"It was." She admitted.

"I'm Dean." The oldest Winchester brother said and lifted his beer in an inviting gesture.

"Catherine." The woman said and smiled a little as they touched glasses.

"So Catherine.." Dean started but what cut off by a loud crash nearby, and once again someone was screaming.

**_ SPN _**

Sam hadn't been able to dig up anything about Harvey Cramer and his wife Dorothy. Or that was actually a lie because he had indeed found some stuff about them, but nothing seemed fishy at least. Harvey had married Dorothy a year earlier and the couple had then bought the hotel six months after their marriage and had restored it. Harvey Cramer had been a real estate agent in Denver before he'd become a hotel-owner while Dorothy had been a cashier, but what had made the couple decide to buy an old hotel was unknown.

Sam closed his laptop, put his hands behind his neck and let out a deep sigh. He couldn't get rid of the feeling that the argument he'd witnessed between Harvey Cramer and the woman in the bar had somehow had something to do with the case they were working on, but whatever it was, it probably wasn't something he would be able to find on his computer. Sam just hoped that Dean had been luckier with _his_ research.

He decided that he could as well try to interview a few people himself, so Sam left the hotel room behind and started making his way towards the stairway leading downstairs. He'd just made it to the landing of the first floor when his eyes caught sight of the hotel-owner himself, passing by on the landing above him.

"Mr. Cramer.." Sam started and wanted to return to the second store but was stopped dead in his tracks when a pale woman flickered into sight in front of him.

Before Sam could as much as think of what to do, the ghost shot forward with her hands stretched out in front of her and connected with Sam's chest with a hard shove. Sam's eyes widened as he crashed through the railing of the first floor landing and flew backwards through the air, before his body connected with something solid that made his world blacken.

Dean left Catherine behind as he hurried back to the lobby to find out what had started yet another commotion, but he was far from prepared for the sight that met him. Because there – on the floor of the lobby, on top of the remains of a broken table – was Sam; bleeding, bruised and completely still.

"Sammy!" Dean exclaimed and ran as fast as he could towards his fallen brother.


	2. Chapter 2

" _No. Not Sam. Anyone but Sam."_ Dean thought in panic as he rushed to his baby brother's side.

"Oh my God! Is he dead?" Someone gasped nearby but Dean ignored it as he skidded to his knees beside Sam and quickly removed some pieces of broken wood from his brother's still form before he grabbed Sam's wrist.

"Come on, Sammy." Dean pleaded - his heart beating fast as he pressed two fingers against Sam's wrist to check for a pulse while he also put a hand underneath his brother's nose to find out if Sam was breathing.

Dean let out a breath of relief when he found a steady pulse underneath his fingers and also felt warm air hit his skin. It meant that his baby brother was still breathing - that Sam was still a _live._

"Sam?" Dean asked.

A flash of lightning from the storm outside illuminated the younger brother's motionless body, and was followed by a boom of thunder that tuned out the panicked voices of the other people in the lobby.

Dean let go of Sam's wrist and used his hands to gently cup Sam's face. He continued the movement of his hands through his little brother's bangs to the back of Sam's head, and Dean winced a bit when his fingers found a bump and returned wet and sticky with blood. Dean glanced up to figure out from where Sam had fallen, which was pretty easy to tell because the railing of the landing of the first floor was broken. Dean's brows furrowed and he clenched his jaw hard. That railing had been pretty solid so that meant that Sam couldn't have fallen by accident - which meant, that whoever or _whatever_ had done this to Sam was gonna be ripped to shreds once Dean found out who had dared hurting his brother!

Dean did a quick assess of Sam's injuries and - aside from the cuts and bruises that had most likely been caused by the railing and table that Sam had crashed into - the younger Winchester also had what looked like a dislocated shoulder.

"Is he okay?" A female voice asked and Dean looked up to see Dorothy looking down at Sam with wide eyes. "Is he? Please tell me _he_ didn't also.."

"He's alive." Dean said, not offering the woman any further explanation than that as he turned his attention back to his wounded little brother. "Come on, Sammy."

He gently shook Sam's good shoulder - while being careful not to jostle Sam's bruised body too much – and Dean's efforts were finally rewarded as the youngest Winchester brother let out a soft groan, his eyelids fluttering a bit.

"Sam." Dean said, not surprised when Sam turned his head towards the sound of his voice. "Time to wake up, buddy."

"De." Sam mumbled and slowly blinked his eyes open while a frown line appeared between his eyes.

"Hi little brother." Dean smiled as Sam looked at him with a confused expression.

"Dean, what -" Sam began but cut himself off with a hiss.

The younger brother had tried to move a bit but had then been stopped as pain had suddenly shot through his body. Sam moved a hand towards his left shoulder but Dean quickly grabbed Sam's wrist.

"Stay still and don't touch that." Dean warned. "I think it's dislocated."

"Great." Sam muttered with sarcasm. "What happened?"

"You don't remember?" Dean asked with concern. "Sam, you took a fall from the first floor!"

"I did?" Sam asked. "My head hurts a little."

"You don't say." Dean commented in a flat voice. "You probably have a concussion. Are you hurt anywhere else?"

While Dean was talking, he expertly assessed Sam for any injuries he might have missed the first time around, but when he lifted Sam's shirt a little to check his brother's ribs, Dean suddenly froze.

"Sam." Dean said and the tone of his voice made the younger brother worried.

"What?" Sam asked.

"Do you think you perhaps had a little run-in with our ghost?" Dean asked after making sure no one else was listening to their conversation.

"It's possible." Sam said. "Why?"

"The symbol.." Dean said and looked into his brother's eyes. "It's been scratched into your skin."

**_ SPN _**

"Here." Dean said and tossed an ice-bag into Sam's lap.

"Thanks." Sam said, grabbed the ice-bag and then took in a quick intake of breath as he put the cold bag against the back of his head.

His head was still throbbing from the impact with the table, and his shoulder – that Dean had popped back in place before they'd left the lobby – was safely held in place by a homemade sling but was still aching. However, Sam considered himself pretty lucky to be alive after the fall he'd taken. Had he landed just a little differently, he probably wouldn't have been able to feel any pain at all.

"Shirt." Dean said and motioned for Sam to hold up the fabric so that his older brother could tend the scratches on his stomach. "What's the last thing you remember?"

"You left to go talk to the woman in the red dress." Sam started and he winced a little as Dean started dabbing at the scratches on Sam's stomach with a wet cloth.

"Catherine." Dean remarked.

" _Catherine._ " Sam corrected before continuing. "And I did some research about Mr. and Mrs. Cramer."

"And did you find anything?" Dean wanted to know.

"No, nothing worth mentioning." Sam said and readjusted the ice-bag a little. "He was a real estate agent in Denver, his wife a cashier. Nothing on the reason why they bought this hotel or anything else interesting for that matter."

"Okay, so maybe there isn't something creepy about the hotel owner couple after all." Dean said. "What else do you remember?"

Sam frowned a little bit as he tried to remember what had happened next. He remembered that he wasn't getting anywhere with his research and had hoped that Dean had figured something out. Sam had closed his laptop and left the room but then what?

"I left the hotel room to go look for you." Sam said as the memories slowly returned to him. "I was walking down the stairs and.. I think I stopped up at the landing of the first floor because.. Yes, because I saw Harvey Cramer and wanted to go talk to him!"

"Okay, that's good." Dean said, encouraging his younger brother to keep going. "Then..?"

"Then I.." Sam started but then hesitated for a moment before his eyes suddenly widened. "The ghost. I remember the ghost."

"The ghost hurt you?" Dean asked while finishing up tending the scratches.

"Yeah, she pushed me through the railing." Sam said. "That's the last thing I remember."

Dean – who had been crouching down in front of Sam – straightened up and started pacing the room. Ghosts had a way of pissing him off but ghosts that hurt Sam? Dean clenched his hands into fists so hard that it made his knuckles turn white.

"I'm gonna kill that bitch!" Dean exclaimed.

"Technically, she's already dead." Sam said and Dean shot him a glare.

"Don't be a smartass, Sam. Nobody likes a smartass." Dean said and Sam smiled wryly.

"So did you talk to.. Eh.. Catherine?" Sam asked.

"Not really." Dean sighed. "I'd just started a conversation with her when you came crashing down."

"Sorry about that. Maybe you should talk to her again?" Sam suggested.

"And leave you alone up here? You gotta be kidding me!" Dean said, stopped his pacing and looked at Sam with disbelief.

"What?" Sam asked.

"Sam, that ghost marked you." Dean said. "She almost _killed_ you! For all we know, she could be coming back to finish what she started, so I'm _not_ letting you out of my sight for one second. You understand me?"

"Fine." Sam said with a roll of his eyes. "But we still have a case to solve."

"Tomorrow Sammy." Dean said with a sigh and rubbed at his tired eyes a bit. "It can wait until tomorrow."

**_ SPN _**

The heavy rain was drumming loudly on the windows and the wind howling, when the Winchester brothers walked downstairs together the following morning. Dean spent the two stories down the stairs complaining about the fact that there was no discreet way to carry a shotgun - which was quite stupid when you had " _a_ _frigging ghost on your tail_!" as Dean chose to put it.

They started off by ordering some breakfast in the hotel restaurant and while they waited for their food to arrive, Dean nodded to the sheriff who was sitting a couple of tables from them. The sheriff finished off a cup of coffee and then got up from his seat before walking towards the brothers.

"Great, now he's coming over." Sam complained.

"Good morning lads." The sheriff greeted them.

"Morning sheriff." Dean said. "Tough night, huh?"

"You have no idea." The sheriff said, grabbed a chair from another table and joined Sam and Dean by their table before eyeing Sam. "You took quite a fall last night. How are you holding up?"

"I'm managing." Sam said. "They should seriously do something about the railing at this hotel."

"Yeah, I second that." The sheriff nodded.

"Have you come any closer to solving the case about the mysterious deaths?" Dean asked and the sheriff's eyes darkened a bit.

"There was another victim last night." He revealed.

"Really?" Dean asked and exchanged a look with his younger brother. "Who was it?"

"Can I count on your discretion?" The sheriff asked and looked between Dean and Sam.

"Of course." Sam said. "What happened?"

"The maid found one of the guests, a man named Walther Jackson, drowned in the bathtub in his room." The sheriff said. "And you'll never believe it, but he also had the same symbol scratched into his skin like the rest of the victims had."

"Poor guy." Dean said while Sam couldn't help but rub a hand across his stomach when hearing those words. "Any suspects?"

"I can't tell you." The sheriff said. "But I've once again called for backup and this time around they're trying to send a helicopter. It won't be an easy task in this weather though. I'm not sure anyone dares to fly out today."

The sheriff looked towards the windows and let out a sigh as the rain showed no signs of settling down anytime soon.

"Well, excuse me. I've got work to do." The sheriff told the Winchesters before taking off.

"First the man who got strangled, then the older couple fell down the stairs." Dean said to Sam, counting with his fingers as he spoke. "You took a nosedive next and now someone drowned in a bathtub. What the hell is going on here?"

"I wish I knew. The ghost is seriously trying to kill off people." Sam said. "But what links the victims together? Or are the killings just random?"

"I don't know Sam, but that's what we'll figure out." Dean said just before their food arrived.

Even though it had taken a lot for Sam to convince the older brother, Dean had finally agreed that it was more effective if they chose to split up – although he wasn't very keen on the idea of leaving Sam out of his sight. So after finishing their breakfast, Dean was gonna try to find Catherine again to finish his talk with her while Sam had decided to find Dorothy.

"Excuse me, M'am?" Sam said when he found the blond-haired woman behind the counter in the lobby.

Dorothy looked up from some papers and she gasped a little when she realized who had spoken to her.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry!" She said as her eyes fell upon the sling on Sam's left shoulder. "Are you alright?"

"I'm okay." Sam assured the woman and shot her one of his sweet smiles to prove his words.

"It's just.. The whole thing it's.. I don't like this hotel anymore." Dorothy said while her eyes filled with tears.

Sam grabbed one of the handkerchiefs from a box on the counter and handed it to Dorothy who gratefully accepted the offer before drying her eyes and blowing her nose.

"I'm sorry." She sniffled.

"No, it's fine." Sam promised. "Mrs. Cramer, Dorothy, I was wondering if you stored some old books or journals from this hotel? It would be great inspiration for our book."

"I don't understand how you can still be in the mood to write after all of this." Dorothy said with a shake of her head.

"Well quite frankly, it's stuff like this that sells a lot of books." Sam said with an apologetic smile.

Dorothy glanced at the sling on Sam's shoulder again before she agreed to show him an old journal written by the old hotel owner himself – Mr. George Baxter. Sam sat down in an armchair by the fireplace in one of the adjoining rooms and started flipping through page after page in the worn journal. It was mostly stuff about the hotel business but once in a while there would also be some stuff about Mr. Baxter's personal life. While he lived, George Baxter was a liked man who ran the Blue River Mountain Hotel with his wife Joanne and his only daughter, Juliette. However, when Juliette had only been five years old, Joanne had died of a sudden illness so Mr. Baxter had been forced to raise his little daughter by himself. That had been a hard job but the old hotel owner had managed to do it without problems until the day his - at that time - sixteen year old daughter had disappeared and never showed up again. It had broken Mr. Baxter and he had ended up drowning his sorrows away in alcohol while his hotel fell apart around him.

Sam reached a page in the journal where a picture of the Baxter family had been placed. Sam picked up the picture and studied it for a moment before turning it over and reading the inscription on the backside; _George Baxter, Joanne Baxter and little Juliette, 1978._

Sam put the picture back where it belonged and flipped some more pages until he came by another picture that made him freeze in his tracks. It was a picture of an older version of George Baxter and his daughter Juliette, and Sam's blood ran cold when he recognized the girl on the picture. Juliette Baxter was the ghost haunting Blue River Mountain Hotel. _She_ was the one killing people!

Sam stuffed the picture into his pocket and closed the journal before he took off to find Dean.

**_ SPN _**

When Sam had left to go talk to Dorothy, Dean had started searching for Catherine. He hadn't been as lucky to find her in one of the rooms downstairs as he had been the night before, so Dean figured the woman was probably in her room. The older Winchester brother had watched when Dorothy had left the counter with Sam and as soon as they were both out of sight, he'd sneaked behind the counter and had started searching for Catherine's room number.

"Bingo." Dean had mumbled with a smirk when he'd found a _Catherine Kellerman, room 136_ on the check-in list, and he had then walked upstairs to the first floor in search of her room.

Dean had knocked on the door to room 136 and patiently waited for the lady to open up. But she never did. The young hunter had knocked a few more times before he'd given up and he had then picked the lock and gone inside to check out the room.

After establishing that Catherine wasn't in her room, Dean started looking through the closet and drawers to figure out if something fishy was going on with the girl. He was rewarded when he found Catherine's driver's license.

"Catherine Cramer." Dean read on the driver's license. "Not Kellerman, but Cramer. Oh Harvey, you've got some explanation to do."

Dean put the driver license back in place and then left the room behind before returning downstairs. He couldn't wait to tell Sam about this – that the fight his younger brother had witnessed the day before between Harvey Cramer and Catherine hadn't been nothing after all; they were married! Or _had_ been married perhaps.

Dean was walking towards the place where he'd seen his brother disappear earlier when something caught his attention. Harvey Cramer was putting on a rain coat and looked carefully around before stepping outside in the storm.

"What are you up to, Cramer?" Dean muttered and shot a look towards the place where Sam probably was in this moment, before he decided to follow Mr. Cramer to see what the hotel owner was up to.

Dean opened up the door leading outside and was almost surprised by the amount of rain and wind that pelted and blew into his face and clothes. He used an arm to shield himself a bit and zipped his jacket all the way up before trying to figure out in which direction Mr. Cramer had gone.

" _There._ " Dean thought. " _A beam from a flashlight._ "

The oldest Winchester brother fought his way through the storm as he followed behind the hotel owner, hoping that the bad storm made it impossible for Mr. Cramer to see or hear him. They made their way around the hotel to the backside of the building where the hotel had a big garden, but it looked like it had been left untouched since the old owner had died. Harvey Cramer walked in between some long rows of bushes and continued down to a little stone house in the corner of the garden. He pushed the heavy door open and went inside while Dean hid behind one of the bushes. What was the owner up to?

Dean shivered badly by the time he decided to turn around and walk back inside to find Sam, but without a flashlight beam to follow, it was a bit more difficult to find the way back than it had been to walk out there. Before Dean could as much as find his way out from the many rows of bushes though, he was suddenly hit in the back of his head by something hard. His knees buckled, his vision faded out and Dean then crashed face first into the muddy ground.


	3. Chapter 3

Sam was worried. He'd spent the last twenty minutes searching through the hotel facilities but hadn't managed to spot his big brother anywhere. Where the hell was Dean? The younger brother had tried calling his cell phone several times but it had gone straight to voicemail every single time. Had Dean turned his phone off?

Sam passed through the lobby for God only knew which time and glanced at the stairway leading up to the many hotel rooms. Dean had specifically ordered him to stay the hell away from those stairs unless _he_ was there to join his younger brother.

"I don't want a rerun of you bungee-jumping without a line." Dean had told him before the two of them had split up. "So you stay down here and wait for me. You understand me?"

"Yeah, yeah." Sam had said.

"Sam." Dean had said in a sharp tone.

"Alright, _fine_. I'll wait for you." Sam had sighed before he'd split up with his older brother.

But said brother was missing now.

Sam continued to stare at the stairs while considering his options. He could stay downstairs and hope Dean would somehow magically turn up _or_ he could walk upstairs to their room to see if Dean should be there. For all Sam knew, Dean could be choking to death by the hands of the ghost right in this moment or held under water in the bathtub or.. No. Sam did not intend to waste more time coming up with terrible scenarios. Not when Dean could be in trouble and might need his help.

With a determination that went hand in hand with being a Winchester, Sam crossed through the lobby and quickly walked the stairs. Fortunately, he didn't run into the ghost of Juliette Baxter and Sam was soon able to enter their hotel room to look for his older brother.

"Dean?" Sam called as he went inside.

Nothing. Dean was nowhere to be seen.

"Dean?" Sam called again as he stuck his head inside the small bathroom while flicking on the lights.

No Dean Winchester in there either. Sam didn't know if he should feel relieved for the fact that his brother wasn't being held under water in the bathtub or worried over the fact that he had no idea where he was supposed to find Dean now.

Sam let out a sigh, sat down on one of the beds while thinking about what to do, and his eyes followed the drops of rain that made trails down the window. Would the goddamn rain ever stop again?

"Focus Sam." The youngest Winchester brother muttered to himself and clenched his eyes shut while pinching the bridge of his nose.

Dean had been looking for Catherine. Had his brother found the woman? And if he had, where were they now? What could possibly….

"Ah, hell no." Sam groaned.

The youngest Winchester brother's face contorted in disgust when he thought about what Dean was probably doing right now – or more specifically; _who_ he was probably doing right now. If Dean had let Sam worry for nothing while he himself was somewhere in this hotel getting laid, Sam would be seriously pissed! He fished out his cell phone from his pocket and once again called Dean.

" _This is Dean. Leave a message._ "

"Dean, you better not be doing what I think you are right now!" Sam told the answering machine and then let out a sigh before turning his tone softer. "Just.. Call me back, okay?"

Sam hung up and tossed his phone onto the mattress of the bed before biting his nails a bit. It wasn't like Dean to ignore Sam's calls or at least not to call him back straight away. Dean had a thing with the ladies, sure, but Sam knew that he would always be the most important thing to Dean. In fact, he was pretty sure Dean wouldn't have taken off with Catherine without a word to his younger brother about it – especially not when he'd been worried about Sam's safety and hadn't wanted to leave Sam out of his sight at all.

Sam had just decided to go downstairs to check for his brother once again when the temperature of the room dropped significantly - to the point where little white clouds of air could be seen in front of him by each puff of his breath. Sam quickly grabbed a shotgun from the nightstand and as he turned back around, he was suddenly face to face with Juliette Baxter. Sam threw himself to the side as the ghost lashed forward, rolled across a bed and got to his feet before pointing the shotgun in the direction he'd come from. But the ghost wasn't there anymore. Sam felt the back of his neck prickle and he caught his bottom lip between his teeth before spinning around on his heels with the elevated shotgun. The ghost was there but before he could pull the trigger, Sam was suddenly airborne. His body connected with one of the nightstands, turned over a lamp and hit the wall before collapsing to the floor.

Pain shot through Sam's already hurt shoulder and he barely had time to try to breathe through the pain before the ghost was attacking him again. She straddled the young hunter and closed her hands around his throat before squeezing his airway shut. With one arm secured to his chest, Sam could only use one hand to try to pry the cold, dead fingers away from his neck but it was a lost battle. The ghost's grip was steel-hard and not budging no matter how hard Sam fought and his eyes widened in horror while he wheezed and gasped for air that just wouldn't reach his lungs.

"Help me!" The ghost suddenly hissed. "Why won't you help me?"

Black spots started dancing in front of Sam's eyes, the words the ghost let out not really registering in his sluggish mind. Sam groped in blindness for the shotgun he'd lost in the impact with the wall, until his weakening fingers finally found the weapon. He used all the strength he had left to lift the shotgun and pull the trigger. Juliette Baxter immediately disappeared while Sam shielded his eyes from the dust of rock salt that rained down on him from the shot. The youngest Winchester brother gasped for air and started coughing badly as he tried to suck some air into his abused lungs. Sam curled up on his side and continued to cough before he slowly crawled towards a bag of salt - which Dean had placed against a wall the previous night after they'd salted the room – and Sam then used it to restore the salt line in front of the door. He'd broken the line earlier when he had been trying to find his older brother, which had been the only reason why the ghost had been able to surprise him.

As soon as Sam finished the salt line, he collapsed on his back and spent several minutes trying to catch his breath. His throat hurt and Sam was pretty sure the violence that had been made to his neck would soon start to swell, so Sam pulled himself together, got up from the floor and staggered to one of the duffel bags. He rummaged the bag for a little bit until he found an ice-bag, and he then staggered the short distance to a bed before sitting down on the bed – the ice-bag to his abused neck. Now that the adrenaline had left his body, Sam felt totally drained for energy. He needed Dean and he needed him _right now._

Sam removed the homemade sling from his arm and used his left hand to hold the ice-bag in place on his neck, while he used his right hand to hold his cell phone to his ear. Sam closed his eyes as his brother's voice reached his ears.

" _This is Dean. Leave a message._ "

"Dean." Sam said to the voicemail – his voice hoarse and shaky. "Where are you?"

He knew he didn't need to say more than that. If Dean heard the message he would know that Sam needed him, so Sam hung up the phone and coughed a little more as he leaned back on the bed in the hotel room while a million raindrops kept slamming against the window.

**_ SPN _**

_Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip._

It was the dripping sound that woke him up. Dean slowly blinked his eyes open and had to blink a few more times before his blurry vision turned clear. Dean's world was turned sideways and as he gradually straightened up to a sitting position, it was clear to him that he had been looking into a grey stone wall. Dean groaned a little and rubbed the back of his head. Where was he and how had he ended there?

The oldest Winchester brother reached into his pocket and drew out a Zippo lighter before turning it on. The room got lit up in the glowing light and Dean let his eyes take in his surroundings. He was in a small chamber with only one tiny little window, and the room wasn't even high enough for Dean to stand fully upright if he wanted to. The room looked like some kind of basement but it was completely empty - except for some old shelves with gardening tools and some bags of seed against a wall. Dean located the dripping sound to a puddle in the corner of the room where drops of water was dripping down from a crack in the small window. Dean could see some grass sticking into the room through the crack in the window and he could also clearly hear the storm outside. It seemed like the rain and howling wind would never settle down nor the thunder and lightning that still ravaged with full force.

Dean's clothes were wet and muddy and stuck to his body like an ice-cold sheet. He shivered a little while he tried to remember how he had ended up in this situation. And where was Sammy? Dean hoped nothing had happened to his younger brother – the ghost had already marked Sam and now that Dean was stuck here, who would protect Sam if the ghost showed up? Dean knew that Sam was more than capable of looking out for himself, but the kid did have a habit of getting into trouble when Dean wasn't around.

Driven by the worry for his brother, Dean started looking for a way out and noticed a trapdoor in the ceiling. It was barely visible since it was made of the same material as the rest of the ceiling, and Dean swore when he realized it could only be opened from the other side.

"Hello?" Dean called and hammered on the trapdoor with his fist. "Anyone out there?"

Dean listened but got no answer. The only thing he could hear was the storm. Dean shouted until he was getting hoarse, pushed and kicked at the trapdoor for some time before he gave up and slid down the wall to catch his breath.

"Oh, for the love of.." Dean exclaimed and rolled his eyes when he realized he hadn't even tried to use his cell phone yet.

He reached into his jacket, grabbed his phone and looked at it. It was a bit wet from the rain but it was still working and Dean wasted no time flipping it open.

"Sam." Dean mumbled when he saw the missed calls and noticed he'd received two voicemails as well.

Dean wanted to call his (probably quite worried) younger brother, but there was no signal on his phone. He moved around in the small chamber in hope of finding just a little bit of signal but every time he found some, it disappeared again after a few seconds. Dean tried to contact Sam but the call wouldn't get through. On the contrary, Dean did succeed in listening to his voicemails.

" _Dean, you better not be doing what I think you are right now!"_ Sam's voice said on the voicemail which made the older brother frown.

"I'm not out getting laid, you moron." Dean muttered and felt strangely offended.

Did Sam seriously think he would take off with a girl when they were hunting a ghost that had tried to _kill_ his baby brother? Hadn't Dean spent his entire life trying to knock it into Sam's thick skull that he was the most important person in the oldest Winchester brother's life?

" _Just.. Call me back, okay?"_ Sam's voice said and Dean easily picked up on the worry in Sam's voice.

He continued to the next voicemail and put the phone back to his ear.

" _Dean."_ Sam's voice said and Dean straightened up.

Dean could always tell from the way Sam said his name what mood his brother was in. That was what years and years of dealing with the kid had taught him. Something odd was going on with Sam's voice; it was hoarse and Sam sounded.. scared? Worried? Tired? _Hurt._

" _Where are you_?" Sam asked in a voice that made Dean clench his eyes shut as he imagined the face that came along with the voice. Sam needed him, Dean was sure of that. He _had_ to get out of here and find his brother!

**_ SPN _**

Sam woke up with a startle. He hadn't meant to fall asleep but his second run-in with the ghost of Juliette Baxter had worn him out and he'd only wanted to rest his eyes just a little bit. That had been twenty-three minutes ago and Sam's worry spiked tremendously when he checked his phone and saw that Dean hadn't called him back yet.

Sam slowly sat up in bed with a groan, swung his feet onto the floor, and buried his nails into the mattress while trying to make his aching body cooperate. Everything hurt; his head, his neck, his shoulder, his back – even the goddamn scratches on his stomach.

"Help me.. Why won't you help me?" Sam mumbled, recited what he remembered that the ghost had said while trying to strangle him to death.

Sam frowned. Something was indeed off here and he was sure Dean's disappearance was a part of the whole mystery. Sam glanced towards his laptop and got up from the bed before he moved to the chair in front of the little desk with his laptop, and he then turned the computer on.

"Come on, Dean." Sam said, wincing a little as the typing on the keyboard of his computer made his hurt arm throb. "Tell me your GPS is on."

Sam let out what could probably best be described as a combination between a laugh and a sob when a map with a blinking red dot appeared on his laptop screen, showing the location where Dean - or at least Dean's cell phone – was in this moment. Sam zoomed in on the map and was not surprised to see _Blue River_ on it. He zoomed in as much as he could and bit the inside of his cheek when he realized that the dot wasn't situated precisely on the hotel but more like a little behind it. Sam turned his head to look out of the window at the pouring rain, and his heart started beating faster. Dean was outside somewhere.. in the storm.

**_ SPN _**

After putting on a warm hoodie underneath his jacket, Sam went downstairs with a flashlight in his hand and a shotgun hidden as much as possible inside his jacket. Dean had been right; there was absolutely no discreet way to carry a shotgun, but Sam didn't care what people would think right now. He had a big brother to find.

Sam had made it down the stairs without any problems and was almost through the lobby when he was stopped by the hotel owner himself – Mr. Harvey Cramer.

"You're not heading outside, are you?" Mr. Cramer wanted to know. "The weather is really bad. It's dangerous out there."

"My brother is missing." Sam explained. "I think he's outside and I need to find him."

"What's going on?" Another voice asked and Sam barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes as he recognized the voice as the sheriff's.

"This young gentleman is heading outside." Mr. Cramer said before turning to Sam again. "I really think it would be wiser to stay inside."

"Outside? In this weather? You must be crazy, kid! It's suicide!" The sheriff exclaimed and laughed a little as if Sam had suggested that they all started wearing their left shoes on their right feet.

"It's Sam." Sam said, his patience slipping more and more away from him by every passing second. "My brother is missing and I have my reasons to believe he's outside. He could be hurt and I'm wasting precious time here!"

"Your brother is missing?" The sheriff asked. "I'll help find him! Let me just get my coat."

"I'll help too." Harvey Cramer said and also took off to find more clothes to wear.

Sam considered just leaving before the two men returned, but maybe they could actually be a help. Harvey Cramer probably knew the surroundings pretty well and Sam could need some extra hands in case Dean was badly hurt. Just thinking about it made the younger brother swallow hard.

When Mr. Cramer and the sheriff had returned, the three men walked outside through the front doors and Sam immediately started shivering in the cold and wet storm that met him. The weather had turned so much worse than it had been when they'd first arrived at the hotel in Blue River, and Sam could clearly understand why the bridge had been flooded over. Sam turned his flashlight on and so did the two others.

"Dean!" Sam called and hated that his still hoarse voice got swept away by the wind. How was Dean supposed to hear him? "Dean!"

The three men spread out in the driveway – the beams from the flashlights the only thing indicating where the others were – while they called Dean's name again and again.

"Let's split up." Mr. Cramer suggested when they'd gathered again. "Sheriff, you stay on this side of the hotel. Sam and I will search the backside."

"Copy that." The sheriff agreed and continued to search the area in front of the hotel while Sam followed behind Harvey Cramer to the other side of the building.

Sam's teeth were rattling by now. His clothes were soaked to the skin, the cold wind penetrating his already aching body and his feet kept slipping in the muddy ground. Sam's wet shaggy hair was like glued to his face and he shook it a bit before brushing hair out of his eyes.

"Dean!" Sam called again and followed Mr. Cramer through some rows of bushes – bushes with roses, Sam could tell – though the hotel owner had gotten far ahead of him.

A little stone house appeared in the corner of the garden and Sam wondered if perhaps his big brother had found shelter in there. He started closing in on the house and had almost reached it when Mr. Cramer showed up again.

"I think Dean might be in there." Sam said to the hotel owner and nodded towards the house.

"And why would you think that?" Harvey wanted to know. "It's just an old gardener house that isn't being used no more. In fact, we've talked about tearing it down. The whole garden actually so we can make a swimming pool out here."

"Uh-huh." Sam nodded, not really interested in the story. "But Dean could have been looking for shelter and gone inside. It's worth checking out."

"Of course it is." Mr. Cramer said with a little smile. "Let me lead the way."

Mr. Cramer opened the door and quickly went inside the little house. Sam followed shortly after but hadn't even taken one step into the house before something came swinging at him – hitting him right on the nose, and the blow make him stagger backwards. Sam stumbled over something on the ground and fell down into the mud while blood had started running from his nose.

Confused at what had hit him, Sam looked up from the ground, squinted a bit to see through the heavy rain and then suddenly found himself facing the barrel of a gun.

"I told you to stay inside, but did you listen?"

Sam swallowed hard as he looked at Harvey Cramer who looked back at him with a hard expression on his face.

"Goodbye Sam." Mr. Cramer said and pulled the trigger.


	4. Chapter 4

"Goodbye Sam." Mr. Cramer said and pulled the trigger.

As soon as the words had left the hotel owner's mouth, Sam had known that he was about to get shot. But he was a Winchester after all and, stubborn as he was, Sam had quickly rolled to the side and prevented the bullet from penetrating his chest and killing him.

But he still hadn't managed to avoid it completely. Sam let out a loud yelp as pain shot through the side of his stomach from where the bullet had went through, and it took his breath away for a moment. Sam quickly composed himself though because he knew that Harvey Cramer wouldn't be satisfied before he was dead, so the younger Winchester brother took advantage of the fact that Mr. Cramer had yet to figure out that the bullet hadn't been fatal - plus the fact that the rain was like a curtain between them - by rolling into safety behind some trees.

Sam bit his lip hard as he pressed a muddy hand to his hurt side, and when he removed the hand again to look at it, it was covered in blood. Another shot rang through the air and hit the three next to Sam's head. Sam ducked but regretted the movement right away, as it made new waves of pain shoot through his already aching body. Sam knew that he wasn't safe behind the trees though, so he started moving away as fast as he could. He didn't know whether or not Mr. Cramer was following him and he sure as hell didn't stop up to find out. Sam just continued his escape through the rain - although being hurt, combined with the slippery ground and the darkness around him, made the simple task pretty difficult for him.

Sam eventually had to stop up as the pain became too much for him. He was shivering badly, his clothes soaked to the skin and caked with a mixture of mud and blood, his hair sticking to his face. Somehow along the way, he'd dropped the shotgun he'd been carrying underneath his jacket, but right now it didn't matter. Right now there wasn't anything that mattered – except one thing.

"Dean." Sam mumbled, closed his eyes and fell to his knees, beside the ledge of mountain by the raging river, while grasping his hurt side.

His big brother was still missing and Sam felt like crying. He was a failure - he'd failed Dean.

" _No."_ Sam thought. " _Dean is still out there – alive. I can't let him down. I can't let him down."_

Sam opened his eyes back up, tried to shake his wet hair out of his face, and placed a shaking hand on the muddy ground to push himself back up. He didn't succeed the first time since his hand kept slipping, but Sam eventually got back on his feet and took some steps forwards on wobbly legs. The temperature around him suddenly dropped to an even lower degree and Juliette Baxter flickered into sight in front of him.

"Help me!" She hissed before she shot forward.

Sam was certain that the ghost would try to choke him again, so he was surprised when her hands didn't close around his throat but grasped the collar of his jacket instead.

"No, don't!" Sam gasped but his protests were unheard as the ghost sent him flying off the ledge.

**_ SPN _**

Dean Winchester had always been determined as a kid, which was a quality that hadn't changed one bit throughout the years. That determination was combined with his need to keep his little brother safe and sound, and Dean would beat down anyone and anything that kept him away from his big brother duty – trapdoors included. So the trapdoor wouldn't budge? Well too bad, because it was the one obstacle between Dean and his little brother, and it was _F_ going down!

Dean was pretty sure that the reason why he couldn't push the trapdoor open was because something heavy was blocking it, so he started searching the shelves of old gardening tools for anything that could be useful in his attempt to break out of the basement-looking chamber. He found a rake, a pair of hedge shears and a shovel that he brought with him to the trapdoor along with some bags of seed.

"Hang on, Sammy." Dean muttered before he placed the head of the shovel in the rut of the trapdoor opening.

He pushed the shovel as far into the rut as possible and he then did the same thing with the hedge shears. Dean used his body to push down hard on the shovel and hedge shears at the same time, and kept pushing while the trapdoor opened just a tiny bit. He reached out for the rake and squashed the handle of it into the opening, he'd made between the ceiling and trapdoor, and Dean could then let go of the shovel and hedge shears.

Dean looked at his work while catching his breath. The trapdoor wasn't opened up much – only like an inch or something – but it was a start. The oldest Winchester brother pressed his shoulder to the trapdoor and used all the strength he could master to push against the solid wood. Dean's legs shook and his face turned red in the process, but he managed to open the trapdoor just a little bit more and quickly shoved a bag of seed into the enlarged opening.

" _Dean. Where are you?"_

The memory of Sam's distressed voice on his voicemail reminded the older brother of the reason why he needed to get out of here as soon as possible, so Dean continued the task until the trapdoor was opened enough for him to at least get a good look at where he was. He then realized that the place where he'd been imprisoned was nothing but a crawl space underneath the floor of what looked like a small cabin. Dean's eyes caught sight of what looked unmistakably much like a table leg and he guessed that the thing blocking his escape had to be the table. Dean picked up the rake, put it through the opening of the trapdoor and angled it so that the teeth of the rake closed around the table leg, before the oldest Winchester brother began to pull the rake back in an attempt to move the table from the trapdoor. Dean put all of his weight into moving the table and in the end it tipped over, releasing the pressure from the trapdoor. Dean let out a short laugh of victory and wiped some sweat off his forehead before he pushed the trapdoor completely open and climbed out of the crawl space.

Dean quickly looked around in the cabin. There was a small anteroom from where you could go outside, and the main room contained a kitchenette, the tipped-over table, a chair and a bed. All of it was old and dusty - probably belonged to a member of the hotel staff once upon a time - but it was obvious that it had been used recently. Most likely by the person who'd trapped him underneath the floor. There were footprints on the dusty floor; some leading to the trapdoor but the majority set of footprints were situated between the entrance and one of the walls. Why the wall? Dean was curious to find out but his worry about his brother was greater than his curiosity, so he let the mystery be a mystery and started walking towards the exit.

However, just as he reached the door and was about to step outside, Dean heard voices outside and he quickly hid behind the door and peeked through the pearly curtains to see who was talking. He had to narrow his eyes a bit to see the shapes through the pouring rain and strained to hear what they were saying.

".. will probably start looking for him soon." Dean heard the hotel owner, Harvey Cramer, say.

"And what do you want me to do?" A female voice asked and, despite the raincoat she was wearing, Dean recognized the woman immediately. It was Catherine Kellerman – No, Catherine _Cramer_.

"I want you to pack the money down. As soon as the bridge opens up again, we're out of here." Mr. Cramer said.

"And what about the guy you knocked out?" Catherine wanted to know.

Dean absent-mindedly rubbed the back of his head. That blow had _really_ hurt! The young hunter bent down a bit to draw out a knife from his boot, pretty thankful for the fact that Harvey Cramer hadn't thought about searching him for anything before trapping him in the crawl space.

"He's not going anywhere." Harvey Cramer said. "Not as long as you don't let him out, that is!"

Catherine said something Dean couldn't hear, but from the look on Mr. Cramer's face, Dean figured it couldn't have been something nice.

"Yeah, right back at ya." Mr. Cramer said. "Just do your job and I'll go inside and make sure the tall one stays out of the way."

_Sam._

Dean clenched his jaw hard to restrain himself from running outside and slicing Harvey Cramer's throat for even thinking about coming anywhere near his brother! But Dean knew he had to be smart about this, so he stayed where he was – even though every big brother instinct inside of him was screaming at him to do otherwise.

Mr. Cramer turned around and started walking away from the cabin, but he stopped up and looked over his shoulder at the woman before saying; "Don't screw this one up, Cat."

He then walked away and Catherine let out a few curse words before she entered the cabin. As soon as she was inside, Dean snuck up behind her and while pushing the door shut with his foot, he snaked an arm around the woman's neck and pressed the knife to her throat.

"Hello sweetheart. How nice of you to drop by." Dean smirked. "Let's have a little chat, shall we?"

**_ SPN _**

It was pretty impressive how much you could make a person reveal - just by making a threat every now and then and wave a knife in front of the person's face. That was how Dean had found out that Catherine Cramer _wasn't_ Harvey Cramer's former wife after all; she was the hotel owner's sister. More surprisingly, Catherine and Harvey were the old hotel owner's niece and nephew, and the victims that were murdered inside the hotel had all been members of their family that Harvey and Catherine had killed off because of a matter of inheritance. Well all except the first victim at least whom Catherine had claimed they weren't related to and hadn't murdered. But who murdered the first victim then? And how did the ghost fit into this puzzle? Dean didn't know, but he was pretty sure his brilliant little brother would figure it all out.

" _If he hasn't already solved the mystery, that nerd."_ Dean thought as he closed the trapdoor, keeping Catherine imprisoned in the crawl space.

He'd just moved the table in place when he saw movement outside the cabin, so Dean quickly hid in a corner of the room. The door to the cabin opened up, making the sound of the storm outside fill the room and – wait! Was that Sam's voice?

Harvey Cramer stepped inside and grabbed a shotgun that was hanging on a wall in the small anteroom before leaving again. _What the hell_?

"I told you to stay inside, but did you listen?" Mr. Cramer asked and Dean started moving towards the exit when he heard the man say "Goodbye Sam."

Panic welled up in the young hunter's heart when he heard a shot being fired, and he ran the last of the way outside and into the pouring rain. Dean saw a glimpse of his little brother as he rolled in between some trees while Mr. Cramer took aim at him, and Dean's anger flared. He full-on football tackled Harvey Cramer to the ground – just as the man pulled the trigger of the shotgun, sending a bullet in the direction of where Sam had disappeared – and placed some solid punches to the hotel owner's face.

"I'm gonna rip your heart out if you've hurt my little brother!" Dean growled and pulled the man a bit up from the ground by his collar before punching him again.

"Hold it right there! Hands where I can see them!" A voice suddenly shouted and Dean turned his head to see a very wet sheriff aiming a gun at him.

" _He's_ the killer!" Dean exclaimed, pointed at the barely conscious man and shook him a bit for emphasize.

"Alright alright, just take it easy son." The sheriff said without lowering the gun.

"Take it easy?" Dean said and chuckled humorlessly. "He knocks me out, traps me inside that house and then he tries to kill my _brother_! And you tell me to take it easy?"

"Where's your brother now?" The sheriff asked.

"I don't know." Dean said as he got off Harvey Cramer and glanced towards the trees where he'd last seen Sam. "But I gotta find him. I think he's hurt."

"Okay." The sheriff said and lowered the gun a little. "We get this thing solved and then I'll help you find your brother."

"No, I don't think you get what I'm saying here." Dean said, running out of patience. "I think Sam is _hurt_ so I don't have time for this. I gotta find him right the frigging now!"

The sheriff put the gun away and found a pair of handcuffs that he put on Mr. Cramer.

"You go find your brother." The sheriff said and handed Dean a flashlight that he gratefully accepted before the young hunter ran in between the trees.

"Sam!" Dean shouted as he turned on the flashlight. "Sammy! Sam, where are you?"

A flash of lightning lit up the area and Dean saw no little brother there, but he did find Sam's shotgun however – abandoned and half-buried in mud. Dean picked it up and his eyes then caught sight of what looked like Sam's gigantic footprints in the mud which had already started to fill with water from the rain that kept coming down. The older brother followed the trail as fast as possible until he reached a place where the footprints had suddenly come to a stop.

"Sam?" He called and strained to listen for an answer he never received. "Sam!"

The temperature around him suddenly dropped and a ghost of a pale young girl appeared in front of him.

"Shit!" Dean exclaimed, elevated the shotgun as the ghost shot forward and quickly pulled the trigger.

The ghost disappeared in a rain of rock salt and Dean let out the breath he'd been holding. Okay, so the ghost was definitely still a problem. But where was Sammy? Dean got a bad feeling while he wondered if Sam had also run into the ghost here and if that would explain the suddenly missing footprints. His big brother senses picked up and Dean carefully moved closer to the ledge to look down.

"Sammy!" Dean shouted when his suspicions were confirmed as his eyes caught sight of the youngest Winchester brother who was sprawled face down in the mud right next to the river.

Dean quickly found a way down that wasn't too steep before he slid down through the muddy hill and closed the last gap between him and Sam.

"Sammy? Oh God." Dean said and frantically turned his brother over.

Sam's face was covered in mud so Dean started removing as much of the black substance as possible with the bottom of his jacket sleeve and with a little help from the rain. The mud was everywhere - even in Sam's mouth and nose, and it was then that Dean noticed the fact that Sam wasn't breathing.

"No. No, no, no, no, no." Dean said while sticking a hand down Sam's throat to remove a big pile of mud. "Don't you dare do this to me, Sammy."

Dean also used his fingers to remove as much mud as possible from Sam's nose, before he tilted the younger brother's head back, pinched Sam's nose and blew into his mouth a couple of times. Sam was cold. Really, really cold.

"Come on, Sammy!" Dean pleaded and blew into Sam's mouth again.

This time Sam started coughing and gasping for air and Dean hurried to turn Sam onto his side while he gagged and spit up mud.

"That's it, that's it. You're okay." Dean soothed his brother and gently rubbed his back through the assault.

"D-D-De-Dean." Sam stuttered out when Dean turned him onto his back again – placing Sam's head in his lap.

"Right here, Sammy." Dean said and smiled a little when Sam blinked his eyes open.

They were glassy and unfocused but Sam was awake at least.

"I f-found y-you." Sam said while Dean tried to rub some warmth into Sam's cold fingers.

"Actually, I think _es_ was the one who found _you_ , little brother." Dean said. "Haven't I told you not to play with ghosts you don't know and to stay away from psycho hotel owners?"

"N-never l-l-listen." Sam said with a little smile.

"Well, you wouldn't be the brother I know if you did." Dean teased. "Come on, let's get you out of here."

When Dean tried to move Sam a little, the younger brother let out a gasp and his face contorted in pain.

"Sammy? You hurt anywhere?" Dean asked with concern. "Sam, talk to me! Sammy?"

He didn't get an answer because Sam's eyes then chose to roll to the back of his head and he went slack in Dean's arms.

 


	5. Chapter 5

Dean's heart hammered wildly inside his chest as he watched his little brother lose conscious. His instincts had told him that Sam had been hurt but Dean hadn't realized how badly. The mud covering Sam from head to toe made it difficult for the older brother to see any immediate damage so he peeled off his jacket, put it on the muddy ground and carefully lowered Sam's head down onto it while muttering soft assurances he knew wouldn't be heard. Dean then moved around Sam to do a quick assess of his brother's injuries.

"Sorry." Dean said because, even though his brother was already shivering from being soaked by the rain, Dean was having a hard time seeing anything with all the mud covering Sam so he unzipped Sam's jacket to take a look inside it.

And then he wished he hadn't.

"Shit, Sam." Dean gasped, eyes widening in horror when he saw the crimson covering Sam's left side. "Shit, shit, shit."

Dean frantically lifted up his brother's shirt, winced a little when the shirt stuck to the bloody mess, and quickly searched for the source of the whole ordeal – his hands coated in Sam's blood by the time he'd found what he'd been looking for. _There._ A bullet wound; Sam had been shot.

"Oh Cramer, you're _dead_!" Dean growled.

On the bright side though, the bullet had grazed Sam's side more than penetrating it and Dean was relieved that it had gone straight through. However, it didn't mean that Sam wasn't still seriously injured. The youngest Winchester brother had probably lost a lot of blood, so Dean took off his over shirt and pressed it down on the bleeding wound – causing his little brother to let out a soft moan.

"I know Sammy, I know." Dean said and placed a couple of bloody fingers on Sam's neck to check his pulse, his heart swelling with love for the kid as he leaned into Dean's touch. How could a simple action like that always bring out those kinds of emotions in him?

Sam's pulse was luckily steady – although a little slow – and Dean made sure his over shirt was properly in place on the bullet wound, before he moved Sam's shirt back down and zipped his brother's jacket again, hoping the action would stop Sam from bleeding out on him before Dean could tend the wound.

Dean zipped the jacket all the way up to Sam's chin but zipped it a little down again since his eyes had caught sight of something on Sam's neck.

".. The hell?" Dean muttered with a frown and probed the purple marks covering Sam's neck.

It looked like someone had tried to strangle the younger brother which made Dean's anger reach new heights. Who had done this to Sam? Harvey Cramer? The ghost? Dean let out a deep sigh and stored the anger in his mental ' _People to hurt for hurting Sammy_ ' file. He could deal with that later – right now he had a brother to take care of.

"Alright Sasquatch, let's get you inside." Dean said, placed his arms underneath Sam's armpits and pulled Sam into a sitting position, before he braced himself for the weight he was about to put to his shoulders.

Anyone else than Dean Winchester would probably have left Sam to go find help because, despite the younger brother's love for what Dean considered healthy crap food, Sam was quite heavy and big as a truck and therefore not easy to manhandle. But Dean couldn't leave Sam hurt and alone by the side of the raging river; vulnerable to anyone or anything that might pass by, so Dean saw no other option than to carry his brother.

As Dean was crouched down in front of Sam, and had Sam's upper body half in place over his shoulders, an old song popped into his head.

' _But I'm strong, strong enough to carry him. He ain't heavy, he's my brother. So, on we go.'_

Dean shook his head and chuckled a little. Sam would never let him live that one out if he knew how chick-flicky his big brother could become in situations like these. Fortunately, Dean would never let him know.

"Geez, you weigh like a frigging ton, Sammy." The oldest Winchester brother complained, his face turning red in effort, when Sam was settled on Dean's shoulders in a fireman's carry.

He hadn't taken more than a few steps though before the ghost flickered into view in the rain in front of the two brothers, and before Dean could do as much blink she made impact with his chest – making Dean drop his brother while he himself was sent flying. Dean landed on his back on the muddy ground with an "Oomph!" - Dangerously close to the roaring river. Dean draped an arm over his midsection and groaned a little, had most likely cracked a rib or two. He turned his head and saw the shape of the ghost – blurred by the curtain of raindrops – on top of Sam and with her hands closed around the younger brother's throat.

"No." Dean said and ignored his protesting ribs as he pulled himself up from the mud and hurried in direction of Sam and the ghost. Where the hell was the damn shotgun?

"Hey!" Dean shouted. "Get off him, you bitch!"

The ghost turned her cold dead eyes on Dean and let out a snarl before letting Sam go to attack Dean instead. With the shotgun missing and his jacket (that contained a little flask with salt in a pocket) interred somewhere in the mud, Dean had no way of protecting himself when the ghost knocked him to the ground – his already aching ribs protesting with the impact.

"Why won't you help me?" The ghost hissed as her hands locked around Dean's throat.

Dean kicked his legs while trying to pry the strong hands away from his throat but it was a losing battle. She was just too strong. Dean gasped like a fish caught on dry land and just as he was seconds away from losing conscious, there was a blast from a gun and the ghost disappeared in a rain of rock salt. Dean gulped in large amounts of oxygen and started coughing a little while rubbing his sore neck. He moved into a sitting position, turned his head to see who had fired the gun and was quite surprised to see Sam starring back at him – shotgun in hand.

"Sam?" Dean said and coughed a little more before crawling to his brother's side.

"You okay?" Sam asked when Dean got close enough.

"Asks the guy who's been shot and almost choked to death by a ghost." Dean snorted and carded a hand through Sam's wet and muddy hair in an affectionate way. "But I'm fine. What about you?"

"Been better." Sam admitted which doubtlessly meant that Sam was feeling like crap.

"Uh-huh." Dean nodded. "You think you can stand?"

"Yeah, think so." Sam said and let Dean help him up from the ground.

Sam's legs buckled a couple of times but he eventually remained steady on his feet. Dean then pulled Sam's arm over his shoulders and snaked his own arm around Sam's waist before the Winchester brothers began the task of getting back to the hotel.

The road back was wet and slippery, the rain and wind working against them, but Dean never let Sam fall and Sam repaid the favor by staying conscious throughout it all – even though Dean had to take most of his weight in the process.

"You just stay with me Sammy, alright?" Dean kept saying and despite the fact that Sam had nodded his answer, Dean still wanted to hear his brother to vocal the obvious. "Sam?"

"I'm with you, Dean." Sam said in a tired voice, but Dean hadn't missed the way Sam's words slurred a bit and he was grateful when the entrance of the hotel finally appeared in the distance.

The brothers squinted when a sudden light hit their faces and someone yelled "They're over here!" before a small group of people came running towards them. Dean recognized the man leading the group as the sheriff.

"Jesus, lads! Are you alright?" The sheriff gasped when his eyes fell upon the brothers. "We've been searching for a while for the two of you! Did you fall off a ledge or something?"

"Something like that." Dean muttered and let the sheriff help him get a barely conscious Sam the last of the way inside the Blue River Mountain hotel.

**_ SPN _**

It took one very long and hot shower, some drops of whiskey, eight stitches, some antiseptic cream, a roll of gauze, antibiotics, pain killers, a couple of ice-bags and three blankets before Sam was situated - warm, drugged and asleep - in one of the hotel beds, snoring softly. The hardest part of it all had actually been to get the mud out of Sam's hair but Dean had rinsed his little brother's hair again and again – claiming that it had been the best solution because he hadn't wanted to hear Sam complain about it later.

"So you're not doing it out of the goodness of your heart?" Sam had asked while fighting to keep his drooping eyelids open.

"Of course not. Now you're just being delirious." Dean had shot back which had made the younger brother let out a soft snort.

Dean tugged the blankets closer around Sam's sleeping form and cleaned up the bloody rags from the floor of the hotel room before he was finally able to pick out some clean clothes from his duffel and disappeared into the bathroom to take a warm shower as well. When he had finished up in the bathroom, Dean flipped onto his bed and flicked the TV on – making sure to keep the sound on low as he watched over Sammy.

Two hours, thirty-three minutes and _eight, nine, ten_ seconds later, Sam finally began to stir, so Dean picked up the remote, turned off the TV and turned his head to look at Sam as the younger man's eyes blinked open.

"Hey." Sam said in a bit of a rusty voice.

"Hey." Dean said. "How are you feeling?"

"Like something died inside my mouth." Sam said with a wrinkle of his nose and tried to moisten his dry lips a bit.

"Here." Dean said, propped Sam up against the headboard and handed him a bottle of water.

"Thanks." Sam sighed and took a long sip of the water before screwing the lid back on. "What happened to Harvey Cramer?"

"He's in custody by the sheriff." Dean said, wincing a little as his ribs hurt when he sat back down on his bed. "He'll be taken to the police station as soon as the bridge opens up again. And so will Catherine Cramer."

"Catherine Cramer?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, it turns out the little red-dressed lady is Harvey's sister." Dean explained. "And a murderer too. She and Harvey murdered three of the four victims; the old couple and the man who was drowned in the bathtub."

"Hang on, _they_ murdered the people?" Sam asked in surprise. "What about the ghost then? And the first victim?"

"See, that's what I can't figure out." Dean said, got up from his bed and started pacing back and forth in the room. "Catherine confessed to have killed three of the victims with her brother, but she refused to have had anything to do with the man who got strangled. And I don't know where the ghost fits into this puzzle and why all the victims had symbols engraved in their skin – like you have. All I know is that Harvey and Catherine Cramer murdered their own family members because of some inheritance issues."

"What?" Sam asked.

"They were all related to each other _and_ to the old hotel owner. He was Harvey and Catherine's uncle." Dean said and Sam picked up on that piece of information.

"The ghost is the daughter of the old hotel owner." Sam said and this time Dean was the one to look surprised. "The old hotel owner, George Baxter, had a daughter named Juliette who went missing when she was sixteen years old. He never got over the loss of her and ended up drinking himself to death."

"Catherine told me there was no will or anything indicating that there was something left of Mr. Baxter's fortune until recently; Harvey found a letter when he was checking out the hotel." Dean said. "Turns out Mr. Baxter had left his entire fortune to his daughter Juliette, in case she would somehow miraculously show up after his death. He wrote that he'd hid the money in the place she loved the most."

"The little stone house in the far end of the garden?" Sam guessed and Dean nodded.

"Mr. Baxter had hid the money in a secret room in the wall inside the house." Dean said. "Harvey and Catherine used to spend their holidays when they were kids at this hotel, and their cousin Juliette had shown them her favorite spot – the house – with the secret room. When Harvey Cramer found the letter, he'd instantly known where the money had been hidden but the hotel was about to be demolished, so he decided to buy the thing so that he'd got plenty of time to find the money."

"But then the rest of the family found out?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, apparently Catherine, her uncle Bernie and aunt Margaret plus their cousin Walther had found out about it as well, which is why they showed up at the hotel. They all wanted a piece of the cake, things got heated and Harvey and Catherine ended up deciding to kill off the competition." Dean said and looked out of the window.

The rain had finally stopped and the storm had drifted away. Dean couldn't wait for the bridge to open up again so that they could leave this place. They just had a ghost to deal with first.

"That could have been the reason why Juliette started hunting this place – her beloved little gardening house being blown upon by her own relatives." Dean added.

"Yeah, maybe." Sam said. "There's just something odd about it. I know she tried to kill us both but.. She also asked for our help."

"Yeah, I noticed." Dean said with a frown. "Perhaps she was the one who killed the first victim. I mean, he got strangled right? Fits with what she tried to do to us."

"I think you're right." Sam nodded and felt bad for the guy who hadn't been able to free himself from the ghost's cold fingers. "And she used the symbol because there's something she wants to tell us, but what? How she went missing? How she died?"

"Sam." Dean said and opened up the window to be able to get a better look at what had caught his sight a moment before. "I think I know what the symbol means."

"What do you mean?" Sam asked with confusion.

"Why don't you come see it for yourself?" Dean asked and helped Sam off the bed before leading him to the open window.

Sam was happy to see that it was no longer storming outside. The sky had turned clear and he was even able to see a little bit of the sunset in the horizon. He then looked down to see the backside of the hotel, the garden and the little house and then he froze.

"Now I'll be damned." Sam mumbled and shared a look with his brother who smirked in return.

The rosebushes, Sam had noticed in the garden, had a special form when you viewed it from above; it looked like two circles with a horizontal line cut across them – _the symbol_.

**_ SPN _**

"I still don't think this is a good idea." Sam said while Dean unpacked a set of ropes in the garden.

"Hey, I told you to stay in bed but did you listen?" Dean asked. "No. So stop complaining."

"I'm not talking about me; I'm talking about you and this stupid plan of you lowering yourself into an old well, Dean!" Sam said.

The brothers had walked to the rosebushes in the garden to figure out why this place was important to Juliette Baxter, and they'd found an old well in the middle of the 'symbol'. Dean and Sam had both been convinced that Juliette could have fallen into the well and had been killed that way, and if that was the case then there had to be a body on the bottom of it. Sam had also done some research about the first victim in the hotel who had turned out to be a contractor. The younger Winchester brother had remembered that Harvey Cramer had mentioned that they were planning to tear the whole garden apart to place a swimming pool there instead, which was probably why the ghost had decided to end the contractor's life so her body wouldn't be hidden away forever.

Despite Sam's protests, Dean had volunteered to climb into the well to check it out while Sam stayed in bed. Sam had only agreed to the plan after stubbornly deciding to join Dean by the well, but he still didn't like that his brother was gonna climb into that well.

"It's our only option, Sam." Dean said while throwing the other end of the rope into the well. "The ghost is desperate and we need to set her free before she kills more people."

Sam knew that Dean was right but he still shot his older brother a glare.

"Now stop being a bitch and light the way for me, okay?" Dean said before climbing onto the top of the well and closing his hands around the rope.

"You're such a jerk." Sam retorted but stepped to the edge of the well and turned on his flashlight nonetheless before moving the beam into the well.

Dean started lowering himself into the well and a little while later, he reached the bottom.

"Gross." Dean murmured as his legs were buried in cold water.

"Do you see anything?" Sam called from the top, his voice echoing against the stone walls.

"Not yet. Hang on!" Dean called back and then used his hands to start searching the water around him.

His hands kept grasping sticks and leaves and other not so delicious things, and Dean was about to give up when his fingers finally found what he'd been searching for. Dean lifted his hands up from the water and dragged a skeleton to the surface in the process.

"Found her!" Dean shouted to Sam before he pulled the skeleton up on a little ledge of the well.

He then reached into his pocket, pulled out some salt and lighter liquid and spread it on the bones before finding his lighter.

Sam was waiting impatiently by the side of the well where he was leaning forward and lighting for Dean. He couldn't see what his brother was doing down there though but from the sound of it, Dean had found Juliette's body. Sam pitied the girl and the old hotel owner – another family story that had ended too soon.

Sam suddenly shivered when a cold wind reached him. Or maybe the temperature simply just dropped. _Oh no._ Sam spun around and was one again finding himself face to face with Juliette Baxter but before any of them could make a move, Juliette started bursting into flames. At first she looked surprised but then a smile spread on her face and she looked at Sam with relief.

"Thank you." She sighed and then disappeared.

"You're welcome." Sam mumbled and smiled a little. Another restless soul had finally found peace because of what he and his brother did.

"Sam?" Dean called from the well and Sam turned around to see smoke coming up from the well. "What did you do to the lights?"

"Sorry!" Sam shouted and quickly put the flashlight back in place so that his older brother could climb back out of the well.

"I give you _one_ job.." Dean complained when he was out of the well and shot Sam an annoyed look. ".. _one_ job and you decide to go play in the garden instead."

"I said I was sorry." Sam said with a little wry smile.

"You say a lot of things, Sammy." Dean sighed but he smiled as well and gave his brother's shoulder a gentle squeeze. "Let's get inside and hear if there's news about the bridge. I can't wait to ditch this place."

**_ SPN _**

A little past midnight, the bridge was officially opened for traffic again and – even though all the guests of the hotel were more than ready to leave the place – the Winchester brothers were the first people to check out. Dorothy Cramer wasn't the one behind the counter this time and Sam wondered what would happen to her and the hotel now that her husband was about to be a convicted murderer.

"Excuse me." Sam said to the young man behind the counter. "Can you give this to Dorothy?"

Sam handed the guy George Baxter's old journal.

"I don't know if she wants it back but I only borrowed it from her, so I'm not gonna keep it." Sam added.

"I'll give it to her, sir." The guy said.

"Thank you." Sam said and nodded to the guy before leaving with his brother.

"Ah, would you look at her." Dean said with a huge smile when they reached the Impala and let a hand slide across her blank roof. "Oh baby, how I've missed you."

Sam snorted at Dean and opened up the passenger door but he then turned his head to look back at the hotel. Would Dorothy keep running it or was it about to get demolished for good?`

"Sam, are you coming?" Dean asked from the car.

"Sure." Sam said and gave the hotel one last look before sliding into the car beside his brother.

"You know what?" Dean said as he turned the engine on – the car coming to live with a roar. "Next time your geeky brain finds a haunted hotel you think is interesting, we're calling someone to do the job. I've had enough of hotels for a while."

"Yeah, I second that." Sam agreed with a nod of his head.

His body was still aching from all the damage that had been done to it and he was actually looking forward to check into a normal motel again. Dean drove away from the hotel, turned on the radio and flipped a bit through the stations before settling on a soft rock station that he knew would lull Sam to sleep within minutes. And he was right; Sam's eyelids soon began to droop and after a little while, the youngest Winchester brother was asleep with his head resting against the passenger window.

Dean chuckled a little, reached a hand into the back and pulled out a blanket that he draped around his sleeping brother. He then brushed Sam's bangs out of the younger man's eyes and turned his focus back to the road in front of him before he began to hum; _He ain't heavy, he's my brother._

  
  
** THE END **


End file.
